There's No Way I'll Say No
by effervesced
Summary: "Finn, do you ever wish things went differently? I mean, do you ever wish that what happened didn't happen?" AU oneshot fic


**I put this under _Romance _alone, but there's still the hint of obligatory angst. AU and set into the future.**

* * *

_You seem quite nice for a girl with good looks _

_And I'm the kinda fellow that'll make you feel better when your life gets shook_

_So give it a chance according to your plans_

_I bet I'm not number one on your list to kiss, but please understand_

* * *

She's agitated. She's _so_ overcome with excitement that she thinks she could cry.

Finally, she and Finn are taking the big leap to the Big Apple for college. She's feeling _super_ excited about it, but at the same time, she feels incredibly nervous.

It seems surreal, really, that she, a girl who used to be a Lima resident and was always bullied in school, is moving to the city of her dreams with her oh-so-talented and oh-so-handsome fiancé. Who would've thought that she'd be able to have it all?

It was really fortunate of them to get in the same university—NYU—because in that case, they could live in the same apartment (with their parents' consents, of course) and split up the payments.

Everything's seemingly how she wants it to be, seemingly in perfect place, and she couldn't be happier. New York, Broadway, and Finn Hudson—she can't possibly ask for more.

It's all so grown-up: This living together thing and splitting their time between college and each other, but they'll make it, they'll go the distance. Sure, it might be pretty hard at first and they might need to adjust for a bit, but they'll overcome each circumstance that appears in their relationship; she just _knows _it.

* * *

He's nervous. He's so overcome with anxiety that he might throw up and his heart is pounding so hard and so fast that he thinks it might explode.

Finally, he and Rachel are taking the big leap to the Big Apple for college. He's feeling _super_ nervous about it, but at the same time, he feels incredibly excited.

It all still seems surreal, really, that he, a boy who used to be a Lima loser, is moving to the big city with his oh-so-talented and oh-so-beautiful fiancé. Who would've thought he's gonna be able to have it all?

They were really lucky that he'd gotten into NYU, too (because _come on_, Rachel's so clever and brilliant that he didn't even doubt that she'd get in when she told him that she applied), because that way they could move in the same apartment and split up the bills.

Everything seems to be in place, seems to go exactly how he and Rachel wants it to, and he couldn't be happier. New York, NYU, and Rachel Berry—he can't possibly ask for more.

It's all so grown-up: This living together thing and splitting their time between college and each other, but they'll make it, they'll go the distance. Sure, it might be pretty hard at first and they might need to adjust for a bit, but they'll overcome each circumstance that appears in their relationship; he just _knows_ it.

* * *

They barely even unpacked their things and Rachel already launches in their future plans and redecorating the place and daily schedules and whatnot.

He doesn't really listen, only drops his body down their bed carelessly; he's just _so_ tired.

"Finn!" Rachel screeches, a horrified expression etched on her pretty face.

He sits up in surprise and wiggles his torso, as if shaking something off. "What what what?" he exclaims hurriedly, eyes wide, thinking there might be some sort of creature crawling on his body. "Is there a cockroach on my back or something?" He looks over his shoulder, trying to see anything.

She gapes at him for a moment, and then she _laughs_.

"Hey!" he says indignantly. "What's so funny?" he asks.

She laughs harder, shaking her head incredulously and holding a hand on her stomach.

"C'mon, don't laugh at me, baby girl. I don't see anything funny here," he says, and mocks a childish pout.

Her laughter immediately dies down then, but a wide grin is still very visible on her face. She sits down on his lap. "Your fear of cockroaches is endearing. One day a cockroach will roam here in our apartment and you'll be jumping and yelling out of fright and I'll be your ever so mighty hero," she teases, chuckling softly.

He glares.

"Okay, okay, you know I was just joking," she tells him with a giggle. "I was just gonna tell you that we haven't changed the comforter of that bed yet, you know, so lying down on it will get germs all over you." She says, seriously this time, and when she finishes talking she scrunches up her nose in disgust and stands up, motioning for him to do the same.

Now it's his turn to gape at her and then laugh, lying back down on the bed.

She huffs in annoyance, asking, "What's so funny?" and then she crosses her arms underneath her chest.

He sobers up a little bit and stood up to wrap his arms around her waist, looking down at her. "You're crazy, baby girl," he murmurs against her hair. He chuckles when she gives him a look. "But I love your crazy. Like, it's the most adorable kind of crazy I've seen in my life, if that makes sense."

She rolls her eyes, but she gives in and wraps her arms around him and melts in his embrace. "We're still changing the comforter _now_," she mumbles against his chest, her voice muffled by his leather jacket.

He nods with a chortle. "See? You're crazy," he says jokingly one more time.

"_Oh please._ You don't mean that. You love me," she retorts matter-of-factly, finally looking up at him and flashes him an award-winning, toothy smile.

"Yeah," he whispers tenderly, capturing her mouth in a deep kiss. "Extremely so," he murmurs against her lips.

"From the bottom of your heart?" she urges, teasing, and she bats her eyelashes for dramatic effect.

He cackles. "Yes, from the bottom of my heart," he says and leant down to kiss her again. "I'll even scream it at the top of my lungs from the Empire State building."

She rolls her eyes up at him yet again, and says with a wide smile, "I love you too, you know, I'll love you forever and ever and ever."

"I know, and I'll love you too forever and ever and ever," he replies. She smiles. "I'll do it, though: The screaming _I love you Rachel Berry_ at the top of my lungs from high up above the Empire State building thing."

"Would you really?" she asks him sceptically with an eyebrow raised, but she's still wearing an amused expression.

He pecks her lips one more time. "Sure," he answers after pulling back, "You have to know by now that I'd be willing to do anything for you."

* * *

College happens soon enough, and before they know it, they're already starting the second semester of their freshmen year.

They don't really share that much of classes together, but they try to make ways to see each other as much as possible: Over lunch break and in between classes, and then Finn will wait for her after last his last period so they could go drive back to their apartment together.

They make a pretty manageable sort of living.

* * *

Soon, sophomore year passes, and then junior year comes to an end, too.

Finn's grades are improving, very much so, and she decides to reward him with his hard work right after they left the party they attended the summer before senior year.

"Are you okay in there?" he asks her with concern as he lied in their bed, Rachel in the jointed bathroom for longer than necessary.

"Oh, I'm fine," she says as she exits the bathroom, wearing this some sort of darkish red lingerie.

He gulps when she innocently makes her way to the bed, his Adam's apple bobbing as she crawls toward him. He doesn't say anything for long moment, partly because he's literally at loss for words and partly because he's afraid that if he attempts to speak, he might ruin the mood.

She moves to straddle his lap, and her clothing rides up her thighs higher, showing more skin, and then she smiles at him sweetly — and _fuck_, he's never been harder in his entire life, not even when he watched porn with Puck for the first time.

He and Rachel have been sexually active enough since junior year of high school, but never before did she do _this_. Rachel's certainly daring, but just not enough to the point that she wears lots of sexy stuff for him every time they have sex.

She leans her head down to kiss him, her long dark hair cascading around their faces, and he raises his head slightly to meet her halfway, and the kiss was soft at first, loving, but then she places her hands firmly on both sides of his face and his right hand flies up to cradle the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her strands as he pulls her closer and the kiss deepens.

He rolls their bodies so that he's hovering above her. His lips move to her jaw-line, placing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses until he finds her neck, and he sucks and bites and soothes there. He'll leave a mark, she knows, but she couldn't care any less.

She tilts her head to one side to give him better access, and she closes her eyes as she feels the slight throbbing between her legs.

"F-Finn," she purrs out when his mouth placed butterfly kisses on her collarbone.

She feels him smile against her skin, and then he whispers to her when he reaches her earlobe, "What, baby girl?"

"I – please, just –" He feels kinda proud that he can leave Rachel Berry speechless.

He's incredibly hard, though, and she can feel him rubbing against her thigh as he kisses his way down the exposed skin of her breasts. He pulls back to drag the loose strands of the garment down so that her breasts can be fully at view. She sits up to remove it all the way, and soon she's just wearing her red lace panties.

"Fuck," he mutters lowly as he takes in her appearance. She smiles shyly at him. Somehow the fact that she can still manage to be _Rachel Berry_ amidst her (successful) attempt at being sexy amazes him. "You're _so_ beautiful, baby girl," he tells her sincerely, and he leans her back down on the bed and kisses her hardly and roughly on the mouth.

She reaches her hand down to his lower body, and then she cups him through his pants, massaging and stroking him. He groans gruffly, making her smile viciously against his lips.

"Rach . . ." he says, pulling back slightly, and his mouth forms that familiar _o_.

She reaches her other hand between them then, unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down until they reach his ankles, and he stands up to step out of them.

Before hopping onto the bed again, he locks eyes with her and flashes her a sheepish grin when she looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Boxers designed with Times Square? Really?" she says with a sly, amused half smile.

"What? I bought them when I saw them at the mall," he says, defensive.

He doesn't even get a chance to feel shy because soon she's pulling him to the bed and rolling them over and she's straddling his lap, now, grinding against his prominent erection ever so lightly, making him moan her name over and over again.

He places his hands on both sides of her hips to still her movements, saying, "Baby girl, if you move like that again this is gonna be over before we get all the way to the good part." He's gone _much_ better with lasting longer time and time again, but he's not _that_ good yet—not with Rachel acting like this.

She giggles and pushes his boxers down to his knees, and then she trails kisses along his torso towards his manhood, and soon she's stroking him with her hands and his boxers are on the floor and then her mouth is wrapped around him and she's sucking him off and – and _oh_, this feels _so_ good, but he's about to explode and is absolutely going to if she doesn't stop.

She refuses to, and he can't help it, he blows his load and spills in her mouth, and Rachel about astonishes him when she swallowed and swallowed until he's done.

He's breathing heavily when she unwraps her lips from him, and he reaches down to grab her hair slightly and pull her head to meet his, kissing her softly.

"I love you. _God, _I love you so much," he murmurs. "And not just because of how amazing that was. It is, however, certainly a bonus fact."

She laughs and shifts her body above his, causing her center to brush against his now-slightly-limp manhood, and _yeah_, he's totally getting hard all over again.

He looks at her, and her eyes are shining, her gaze at him tender, and his fingers play with the waistband of her lace panties, silently asking for approval.

She nods her consent, and soon they're just Finn and Rachel, no layers between their bodies, and he reaches towards the drawer beside the bed and pulls a condom out, and Rachel takes it from him with a shake of her head.

He furrows his brows, hesitating, "Are you sure, Rachel?" he asks half-heartedly, because although he wants to do this – wants to _try_ to be connected to Rachel with absolutely zero layers between them, he's not sure if it's one hundred percent safe. "I mean, is it –"

"I'm on birth control, Finn," she reminds him gently, placing the condom back in the drawer.

"I know but –"

"Finn," she interrupts, "I – I really want this. I want us connected, in every way possible—both physically and emotionally. And before you ask me, _yes, _I _am_ sure about this. So just – please," she's practically begging, and really, who is he to deny the desire of the woman he so dearly loves?

He slides into her in a vigilant motion, careful not to hurt her, and _oh god_, this feels so amazing—so, _so _amazing that his eyes want to roll to the back of his head.

"I – fuck, Rach, that feels so good," he groans as he buries himself deeper inside her. "Oh god, I – oh god, you're so tight, baby girl. So good . . ."

He looks up to see Rachel, expecting to see some sort of pained expression, but her eyes are closed as she rests her hands on his chest, sinking deeper onto him.

She starts to move—starts to _ride _him, slowly, and he can't help but palm her breasts and massage them softly, not when they're in front of him, bouncing up and down and up and down with Rachel's every move.

"Oh my god, Finn," she exclaims loudly, and he's so grateful that they're the only ones living in this apartment or else someone would be complaining about the noises.

He raises his hips to meet hers, and he can already feel it—the overwhelming pleasure building up inside him.

"You look so sexy when you ride me, I – shit, Rach, I'm gonna come. I'm – I'm so close. I'm g-gonna -"

"I know. M–me too."

He reaches down to her bundle of nerves and pressed circles there, and soon she's moaning incoherent noises loudly and he's grunting her name repeatedly as they ride down their high.

Rachel rolls off of him, breathing heavily, and cuddles to his side, pulling the sheets over them, facing him and tucking her head under his chin, pecking his collarbone lightly.

"I love you," he murmurs to her hair.

He can feel her smile against his bare, sweaty skin, and then she echoes the very same words just as sincerely, "I love you."

He wraps his hand around her body and embraces her to him closer, and they've never been more convinced that they're really invincible.

* * *

But they were wrong, as it were. The middle of the first semester of their senior year proved that.

They start to fight a lot over nothings, and sometimes Finn would miss some of their movie nights (he _never_ misses movie nights—well, not until nowadays anyway), and missing movie nights turns to missing some of Rachel's plays, and – and they start to grow apart.

One of Finn's friends, Mike, decides to throw a party on a Friday night, which Rachel agrees to make Finn attend despite their already-made plans for a date that exact same night. Finn tries to tell her otherwise, says that he could miss a single party and insists that it's gonna be lame anyway, but Rachel sees past him and just knows how badly he wants to go, so she says that it's fine for him to attend, so long as he doesn't get home too late and don't drink too much.

"I won't hesitate on driving to Mike's if you're still not home by eleven-thirty," she threatens seriously. Mike's place is about a good forty-five minute drive away from theirs, and Rachel can barely drive properly, late at night no less, so Finn kind of pledges immediately that he'd be back, sober, at eleven o'clock.

He doesn't, though, and it's already twelve-fifteen and Rachel's starting to get really worried.

She tries to text him, but he doesn't reply. She calls his phone numerous of times but he doesn't pick up. She briefly wonders what's up, but then it eventually hits her that he must've drunk a little too much.

Sheer worry about her fiancé surmounts inside her, and staying true to her words, she quickly grabs the car keys and drives to Mike's.

She pulls over the front of his house and hastily hops out of the car to head inside and find Finn.

She enters the big place, only to be greeted by a tipsy girl as the door swings open widely. "Hey, you're late!" the girl shouts a little too louder than necessary, and then she excitedly hugs Rachel as if they know each other. "I'm Quinn Fabray, by the way," the girl says happily as she pulls back, and Rachel can totally smell the alcohol in her breath.

"Rachel Berry," she says half-mindedly as she scans the room for any sign of her tall fiancé.

Quinn frowns, "What are you looking for?" she asks.

"It's not a what, it's a _who_. And I'm looking for my fiancé," Rachel replies, taking a few steps further into the room. She turns her attention back at Quinn, asking, "Do you happen to know anyone named Finn Hudson?"

Quinn beams then, and Rachel realises how pretty this blonde is. "Oh, I know everybody here!" she exclaims proudly, her voice truthful albeit a little slurry. Rachel briefly considers how much sociable this girl might be, because there are a whole lot of people here, despite the already-late time. Then again, maybe parties really tend to last until this late (she's not quite sure, because every time she goes to one, she leaves early).

"Do you know where he is, then?" Rachel inquires.

"Oh, yes, I think I saw him in the living room awhile ago," Quinn tells her. "He's _drunk_, though, and I may be drunk, I know, but he's _drunk_," she emphasizes exasperatedly, and _yeah, this girl is definitely drunk_, Rachel noticed.

Still, she says, "Can you please lead me to the living room? I need to see him."

Quinn nods enthusiastically, and then she grabs Rachel's wrist and they made their way through the crowd and to said destination.

(**)

Mike's house is pretty spacious, and people are scattered everywhere, and the fact that Quinn is drunk isn't helping her find Finn at all. He wasn't in the living room when they got there.

"That's Tina Cohen-Chang, Mike's girlfriend," Quinn tells her as they walk to the backyard near the pool, and she points her finger to a pretty and long-haired girl by the door.

Rachel just nods; she really doesn't care who's who, she just _needs. to. find. Finn._

Quinn looks at her and narrows her eyes. "You aren't listening to me!" she cries out loudly. "I talked and talked and you didn't listen!"

"I'm sorry, I was – I'm really worried about Finn. Is he really here?" Rachel asks. Finn's surely here, though, because where else can he go?

Quinn sighs. "Fine. Let's continue finding him," she says, pouting angrily and grabs Rachel's wrist again and stomps into the house.

"How about we try the kitchen?" Rachel suggests as she caught sight of what appears to be the kitchen door.

The blonde doesn't respond and just heads to said destination, and she pushes open the door further just in time to see what's happening inside.

Rachel's heart stops at what she sees and her pace comes to a halt. She thinks she hears Quinn gasp, but she can't be sure enough because her attention is focused on a girl smooching with her fiancé.

(**)

He pulls back as soon as Santana Lopez's lips find his, kind of stunned but mostly angry.

_What the fuck?_

The Latina grins cruelly, her head looking somewhere to his right. "Oh, hey," Santana says sweetly, "Didn't notice you there."

He frowns and turns his head, and his eyes widen in horror when he caught sight of Quinn Fabray, and _Rachel_ standing beside the blonde.

Rachel who looks pissed, Rachel who looks betrayed, Rachel who looks hurt, Rachel who is glaring daggers at him and Santana, Rachel who is _crying_, and Rachel who storms out of the room.

"Oh shit," he curses and turns to Santana who's still standing in front of him. "That's my _fiancé_, and now thanks to you she's probably thinking that I'm cheating on her," he accused. "Fuck you," he comments when the Latina doesn't say anything in response.

He sobers up then, and drank the remains of his coffee and runs after her.

(**)

He catches up to her outside, right when she was stepping inside their car.

"Rach!" he calls desperately, running towards the vehicle. When he finally reached it, Rachel's already sat in the driver's seat, and she's real pissed and looks real hurt, so he takes the backseat instead. "Rach, baby girl, I – I'm so _so _sorry. It's not – it's not what you think. I was just –"

"Stop, Finn, please," she begs in between sobs. "Let's talk about this once we're back to our place."

And with that, he shuts his mouth and she starts to slowly drive.

* * *

Okay, he knows he really fucked up tonight, not only by getting kissed by another girl (and being seen by your fiancé), but by getting pretty wasted in itself.

He mentally curses himself: he shouldn't have drunk too much.

Rachel's crying, hard, and she's sobbing profusely, and Finn feels like an absolute _dick_.

She pulls over in front of their apartment building, and she quietly makes her way inside, up the stairs, and towards their doorstep, opening the door solemnly and stepping inside, Finn trailing behind her.

He starts to talk once they get inside and closed the door again, Rachel sitting on the couch, staring blankly at their television screen.

"Rach, that – what you saw, it wasn't like – it wasn't what you think it was," he starts. "Santana – she – I was – I'm sorry, but I drank a little too much, and I was just in the kitchen to make some coffee to sober up a little bit, but she – Santana suddenly entered and kissed me, and I – I _swear_, Rachel, I didn't – I don't – I didn't enjoy that. I – I don't even like Santana." His voice is desperate again, begging her to believe him, and there's a tense silence before she finally replies, voice concave,

"I was _so _worried about you, because it's already past midnight and you weren't picking up when I called and weren't responding to any of my text messages, so I drove there, and the next thing I know, you were kissing Santana and – and I am so – I am _so _hurt and _so _mad right now, I just . . ." She trails off, breathing ragged.

He doesn't know what's happening to him, doesn't know what the fuck inside him was triggered, but suddenly he's feeling angry, angry at _her_ for whatever reason.

"Jesus Christ, woman, I already said that I _didn't _enjoy that! That wasn't my fault!" he exclaims heatedly, and okay, the alcohol remaining in him is probably only fuelling his not-so-reasonable frustration.

Rachel flinches, her eyes widening as she scoots back in the couch, further from him as he takes two steps nearer her. "Finn, stop, you're scaring me . . ." she murmurs.

Finn only carries on, the anger and irritability bubbling up and spilling uncontrollably, "No, Rachel, I'm _not _going to stop! I mean – what were you even expecting? What? Were you expecting me to, like, be _monitored _by you every now and then? Christ, you can't expect me to be fucking tied around your fingers!" He finally stops yelling, breathing heavily.

Rachel narrows her eyes indignantly, and to his horror, tears well up her eyes, and only now does he finally realise the weight of everything he just said. "Rach, I'm – I don't –"

She shakes her head, and she starts to cry again, this time standing up and heading to their room. "No, save it," she snaps, her voice cold. She turns one more time and looks at him, and says, "You know what? Maybe you're right. Maybe I can't _fucking_ tie you around my fingers." It's odd, and he winced; Rachel doesn't curse.

He sleeps in their guest room that night, succumbing to a tumultuous sleep.

* * *

Rachel about breaks his heart the next morning.

He wakes up earlier than usual, around six thirty—which is a big deal, since it's Saturday.

He brushes his teeth and knocks on their bedroom door softly, calling, "Rach?" and twisting the knob slowly only to find it unlocked.

He steps inside, and his eyes almost bug out of their sockets when he finds the whole room half-empty, Rachel no longer inside, and the closet open and half of it swiped clean.

He rushes to open the drawers, and only his things were remaining in them.

He takes a deep, shaky breath, and that's when he notices _it_.

The ring.

It's sitting atop the already-made bed, and placed beside it neatly is a folded piece of pink scented paper.

He takes a couple of unsteady steps towards the objects, wiping subconsciously at his stray tears, already understanding the essence of the whole situation but not quite ready to accept or _believe_ it yet.

He plops himself in the bed, and leisurely, gradually, takes a hold of the paper and unfolding it carefully.

_Finn_, it starts.

_Perhaps by the time you read this, I'm already in the place where I'm headed to and staying at for the remaining of the school year, and I just want to tell you: I'm sorry. You're right; I shouldn't make you feel like you're tied around my fingers. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. I promise I had no intention of doing that._

_So this is it. I'm setting you free._

_I know it might hurt us at first_—_a lot. But I'm not exactly opposed to this idea, you know_—_growing individually, I mean. Maybe it's what we really need_. _Maybe we need to grow apart first before growing together. We weren't really, completely ready for such a huge commitment anyway, or at least not in my outlook._

_I'll see you in campus,_

_Rachel_

He curses himself and cries until he sleeps again.

* * *

Finn doesn't really chase Rachel, not really. Like, yeah, of course he wants to know where she's staying at, but he wouldn't want to stalk her there and force her to get back together with him when she obviously doesn't want to.

So he stays somewhat content with the seldom moments of seeing her in campus halls day after day.

* * *

Rachel starts to be good at ignoring Finn whenever they have an encounter in the hallways, and she's gone good with avoiding the thought of him, too. He doesn't make moving on hard because it's not like he's still going after her.

She moves in with Sugar, one of the people she's befriended well over her years in the university, and the kind girl helps Rachel get over Finn, little by little until she gets used to _not_ thinking about him anymore.

Quinn Fabray becomes her best friend though, and this is good—this moving on and not being able to feel the ache that much anymore thing, and Rachel thinks the pain is really getting pretty easy to bear and handle.

* * *

They graduate college without any real interaction at all, and soon, three years after they got out of college (which isn't really _that_ soon, but time passes by pretty quickly and Finn barely notices), when Finn's twenty five and Rachel's also the same age, and he's working in a Sports Ad company and she's made it as an actress, Finn hears that Rachel is flying to London and – and he can't do anything about it.

Well, yeah, he obviously wants to stop her, tell her he still loves her so dearly, that he never stopped, but he can't, he can't do any of that, because apparently she's moving there with the guy she's currently dating, Jesse St. James, and Finn feels his heart break into pieces all over again.

* * *

"Finn, I'm getting married in fourteen months! Isn't it amazing?"

He almost says, _No, it's not. It's not amazing. Why didn't you wait for me? I thought you said we're gonna grow together? Why are you engaged to a different guy now? Why are you about to grow up together with a different man?_

But he can't say those. It's silly of him to hold onto her words in that stupid break-up letter, which was made after he made some stupid mistake in that stupid party, and _god_, why does he still feel so stupid? That was seven years ago.

Plus, this is the first time he and Rachel got to see and really talk to each other after she left for London and got engaged there, only to go back here in New York City for the wedding itself.

"Of course it is, Rachel. I'm so happy for you."

He's really not.

* * *

He tries to forget about her the way she forgot about him.

He goes out with his college friends—Mike and Sam and Puck (who's dating Rachel's best friend, Quinn) and Rory—and he 'mingles', and it isn't until a month later when he finally found someone who seems interesting, a twenty nine (his age) years old girl named Celine Spiegelman.

He breaks up with her two months later though, right after Sam pointed out that, _hey, dude, she looks just like Rachel_!_ Short, brunette, chocolate brown eyed, talkative, but still real nice_.

He tries to ignore the fact that maybe those are the exact same reasons Celine caught his eye in the first place.

* * *

On a particularly rainy night, at around ten o'clock, he gets a knock at his house's door.

He doesn't hesitate on opening it when he peeks on the peephole and sees Rachel standing on his doorstep, soaking wet from the pouring rain.

He ushers her inside, and _oh_, she's shivering harshly, and he barely even has the time to ask her what the hell happened before she speaks up, voice small and shaking, "I left Jesse after catching him sleeping with another girl in _our_ room. I don't have a place to stay at, and you're the first person to cross my mind."

He doesn't ask any further information about it, because yeah, okay, he didn't even come face to face with Jesse St. James yet, but the guy sounds like a douche.

Later, when he's tucking her under his bedroom covers after feeding her some soup and letting her change to his clothes (because _god_, she's burning up), she asks softly, "Finn?"

"Yeah, baby girl?"

"Why do my fiancés want other women? Am I not good enough?" and then she drifts off to sleep.

His eyes soften, kissing her forehead before saying, "I'm so sorry, baby girl. And I didn't want other women, to be clear. But you should know that you _are_ good enough."

* * *

He doesn't know what they are—or at least not yet—but she moves in with him in his house soon enough after she officially breaks things off with Jesse.

They're each other's: Finn is Rachel's and Rachel is Finn's, and that's just how it is, as far as labels go.

He figures it's always been like that from the start—the two of them being each other's. They just needed more – more _experience_ before truly being together. Sure, they grew apart individually, and they _almost_ didn't get the chance to grow together again, and okay, maybe it took them a lot of time and they had to date other people before realising that they only would work out with the other, but what really matters is that they found their way back to each other again.

And when Rachel's offered a chance to start her own theatre back in London, she politely declines, saying to the woman who offered,

"_I'm incredibly thankful that you'd want to grant me such an offer, but I'm afraid I currently have the lead role in an off-Broadway production. And I know that might not be much, but – but I won't take it. Your offer, I mean. I wanna stay here in New York City with my – with my Finn._"

* * *

They take a random trip to Paris after Rachel's off-Broadway play comes to a close.

It was Finn's idea, really, and he was the one to pay for their tickets seeing as he was the one who booked their flights secretly at first.

They fly there after Finn takes two months leave from work, perplexing Rachel because _why would Finn want to take a two months vacation_ _randomly_?

She brushes her confusion aside, deciding to just enjoy all the time she has with her man.

(**)

They're in their hotel room around the end of their first month, just got home from a dinner date, and they're lying in the bed, Finn trailing kisses along her bare body, when she asks softly, her exhaustion traced in her tone,

"Finn, do you ever wish things went differently?"

He pulls away at the seriousness of her voice, and chooses to lie down and snuggle with her, replying, "What do you mean, baby girl?"

She sighs happily; she's always loved it when he called her that. "I mean, do you ever wish that what happened didn't happen?"

He looks down at her, meeting her soft, intent gaze. "What, like, the break up?" he asks.

"Yeah, and my engagement with Jesse and your relationship with that Cecile and everything else that happened while we were apart," she says.

"Celine," he corrects with a chuckle, and she rolls her eyes playfully, obviously intending to say it wrong in the first place. "And no, not really, to be honest. Because if it weren't for those, we wouldn't have realised that we were meant for no one but each other," he whispers, his voice truthful and tranquil.

She smiles widely, her eyes twinkling, and he knows he said the words she wanted to hear. "I guess you're right," she agrees.

"And . . . I don't know, I suppose you were right when you said in that letter that we needed to grow apart first before being completely ready for such a commitment."

"Mhmm," she hums in approval, scooting closer to his body, tucking her head below his chin (he notices that she loves doing this).

"Do you think that we're ready, um, now?" he asks while kissing the crown of her head, his voice slightly muffled by her thick hair.

"Huh?"

"For marriage," he clarifies nervously, and then he carries on, "I – Rachel, I'm sorry I messed up before, but I – _god_, how do I say this – I love you _so _much, and have for _so_ long, from the very first day I saw your pretty face up to this very day, and I – I promise to love you for the rest of our lives, and I know I can't assure you that I won't hurt you any more in the future, but I'd at least try my best not to—_that_ I can assure. And - and say, baby girl, what do you think about marrying me for real this time?"

She pulls away from his grasp, her eyes wide as she sits up, and he tries not to look at her breasts and focus on the situation at hand, but then she stares at him, and he fidgets and stares back at her, but then she squeals what sounds like a _Yes! _before jumping at him and pouncing him and kissing him hardly on the mouth.

He get the velvet box out from the drawer of the nightstand, pulls out a ring (a new one with a slightly bigger diamond than the first one he gave her) and sliding it onto her finger, and they smile at each other as it glistens from the moonlight coming from outside their hotel room.

"I love you, too, you know," she says, still smiling, "_so _much. More than anything."

* * *

He tells her to pack up a few days later, says that the reason behind his two months leave is that he wanted to spend the second month with her in Italy.

She beams at him happily, pecking him on the lips and murmurs a _thank you so much baby_ against them.

Italy's always been one of her favourite places to visit, and she's only been here twice in her whole life, and she's so happy that she gets to spend the third one with the man she loves

"It's just _so _lovely, _so _beautiful," she tells him as they stroll around Venice, hand in hand while taking in everything the city has to offer.

"It is," he agrees with a lop sided smile, but she looks up only to see that he's not looking anywhere but down at her.

She blushes despite herself, shoving his side playfully.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"What if we get married here?" That wasn't really what she intended to ask, but she doesn't dare take the words back the moment they escape her mouth, not when she sees his delighted expression.

"What, like, now?" he asks after a moment.

She thinks for a moment, and then says, "Not today, exactly, but this month or next month, if your boss still can grant you another month off. I'd hate to have the wedding held without any of our friends and family here."

It's like a split-seconddecision, and maybe it really is, but something about it just feels _right_.

(**)

They get married on a surprisingly splendid sunny day in November, and the ceremony couldn't be more beautiful, what with a simple location and no one else there but the rabbi and their family and friends, and – and it's _perfect_, it's so perfect that neither Finn nor Rachel would have it any other way.

Later, at the reception, when everyone else is done with their speeches, Puck with his speech as the best man and some words from Quinn who is maid of honour, Finn leant towards Rachel, whispering in her ear, "Would you mind dancing with your husband, Mrs. Hudson?"

She giggles, and she thinks she likes Mrs. Hudson a teeny tiny bit better than baby girl. She turns to him with a smile and raised eyebrows, "No, I won't mind. I'd love to dance with him, actually," she says, standing up and taking his hand as he leads them both to the center of the room.

"I took dance lessons for you, right before I planned this whole vacation and proposal thing," he tells her as they dance to the music, Rachel truthfully impressed when he doesn't miss one step. "I figured it would come in handy one day. And ta-da, it became handy indeed," he says with a chuckle.

"You did that for me?" she inquires, and the smile on her face just refuses to fade and go away. "But you hate dancing," she reminds him matter-of-factly.

"Mrs. Hudson," he starts. He grins widely, and he echoes his words from long, long ago, right when they just moved to New York City, the statement still fresh in his mind, and this time his voice is more promising, "You have to know by now that I'd be willing to do anything for you."

* * *

_I really want to come out and tell you_

_Oh darling, I love you so_

_If you'd ask me for my heart, there's no way that I'll say no_

_Oh darling, just take a chance please_

_So we can stay together till hell starts to freeze_

* * *

**title and lyrics are from "Oh Darling" by PlugIn Stereo because I listened to it on repeat while writing this :)**

_**Reviews would be greatly appreciated :)**_


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